


Vision in Blue

by whiteleander



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, M/M, im trying to think about what else i could tag but this is just pure langst really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9884612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteleander/pseuds/whiteleander
Summary: Lance finds a device that lets him relive his memories, projecting them like a hologram. So he gets lost in a virtual rainfall in deep space, takes a walk on Varadero beach, and faces all the things that are piling up inside him, including his feelings about Keith.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Heavy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lp00DMy3aVw) by Linkin Park is too relatable in itself but if you keep associating it with Lance, you're gonna end up extra dead like me

* * *

Lance misses rain. He yearns for the big droplets falling down on him, wetting his hair, his clothes, his skin… his whole soul. Others might feel miserable during a dark grey, rainy day but Lance always loved it, especially if it's a heavy shower, the sky’s tears pouring down steadily, he just loves getting soaked to the bone.

 

Rainfall is like an embrace, welcoming and loving, and it also feels so soothing, as well as purifying: water washes away all his fears, and doubts, and past mistakes, like he's being born anew, and some of the weight pressing down on his heart has been lifted off.

 

No matter how swelled up he is with emotions, Lance always can find peace in water, let it be jumping and splashing in puddles like he is still five years old or doing a few laps in the pool at school. It's like his true element, and he simply thrives in it. It just makes him feel so refreshed, more alive than ever.

 

But ever since he's been in the deep void of space, locked in a spaceship — a flying magical castle, if you please — gotten involved with a battle with his life at stake, all sorts of feelings piling up inside, he’s never been more helpless.

 

He's never felt more trapped.

 

Lance feels like drowning, he misses Earth, he misses his family, his stupid, meagre life when all he cared about was grades, and numbers, and test results, and he knew no shit about aliens. His life was pretty ordinary, and he was living it rather ignorantly, his greatest problem was only teachers scolding him, putting him in his place whenever he tried to hide his own self-worth issues behind his big mouth, a pair of miraculous purple eyes flashing before his mind's eye, mocking him even after _he_ was long gone.

 

But Keith Kogane isn't just a haunting memory anymore. He isn't an ideal to live up to; far-fetched, glorified and twisted around. He is flesh, he is human and he is _unbearable_ — unbearably talented, unbearably awesome, unbearably breathtaking and other unbearable shit like that — and Lance has been near his breaking point for days.

 

He wants to escape, to just get away from all this.

 

Sometimes he is tempted to just sneak out with Blue and go home, and he hates himself most in those moments; he despises how scared he is, worrying about his own skin and cherishing selfish desires when countless lives are suffering under the Galra Empire. At times, Lance wonders how Blue lets him up into the cockpit, he just doesn't think he's good enough (correction: he _knows_ he isn't) to sit in such a place.

 

In his mind, he's no valuable member of Team Voltron.

 

He might joke and laugh things off, and maybe no one knows, not even Hunk, what heavy thoughts burden his mind, and he never felt more misunderstood, more alone. His family isn’t here with him to distract him, his sisters are too far away they can't make him feel better.

 

Lance only has himself and a giant ship to roam in order to refrain himself from going mad. It's a habit of some sort now, to just walk until his feet aches and he feels tired enough that he thinks he’ll be able to fall asleep now. It's nice, it's calm, and at least he gets to know the place he's forced to stay at better.

 

Wandering around the castle ship aimlessly, he comes across a weird room — he isn't as eager to just enter abandoned parts of the castle ever since he almost got sucked out to the freezing deadliness that is space, but something tells him to go inside anyway. He is just drawn, but maybe you can call it being adventurous and curious to a fault, like when you still watch a horror movie even if you actually can't stand them because you just can't help yourself, and since no one is around to stop him, he enters.

 

Looking around the place, heart pounding with excitement, Lance's eyes settle on a thing: it looks like a headset, akin to the one they used for the mindmelding exercise, but it still appears different.

 

Curiosity winning over, he reaches for the gadget and he puts it on before he could talk himself out of it — the memory of almost getting ejected to space is haunting him, and living in a more than ten thousand year old space ship is creepy enough, so his heart rate might just double if not triple as he’s waiting for something to happen.

 

Thinking back to the former bonding exercise, he tries to open up his mind and visualise something, but still nothing occurs. A small voice in Lance's mind tells him to take the headset off and just go to his room before he messes up something or causes one big trouble again, but he isn't going to let this go.

 

Pidge is the genius on the team, they could handle this easily, and Lance has his own way with technology but he is nowhere near as skilled. He's just not on the same level with any of his teammates, and once again, his mind has made a full circle, and he arrived at the same depressing, yet sadly true fact: that he's just not enough.

 

Not enough to unlock his lion’s still hidden skills. Not enough to ace a simulation just once in his life. Not enough to get better even if he's been flying a sentient robotic lion for months now. Not enough to get a warm smile in return, some sincere good words directed at him. Not enough to claw his way up, on top of the mountain where Keith Kogane sits, looking down at the world and on Lance with that dismissing, unimpressed and bored look on his smug face.

 

If Keith just didn't despise him so much, if he just noticed something good in Lance, anything, even if that was a good move during trainings or a practical suggestion on a mission, if he just really, fully and honestly acknowledged Lance for once, then maybe, just maybe Lance could feel at least somehow relevant on this team.

 

If Keith just wasn't so unattainable, so perfect, not light years away standing just a few inches apart, maybe Lance could take things better.

 

If only they could be friends. That would be enough.

 

 _No, it wouldn't_.

 

Warm wetness trails down his face as he is struggling to breathe. And just how incompetent he is for real if he cannot do such simple things as breathing? And why is he crying? He shouldn't be crying so much, he's not a baby anymore.

 

Lance has no use in here, he cannot possibly protect the universe, he can't even get over himself; he is weak and pathetic, and if the others knew what the sphinx had seen inside him too, no one would even look at him, he is just so…

 

The door whooshes, footsteps approach, and for not the first time in his life, Lance wishes he could disappear, to be non-existent.

 

“Lance?” It's Coran, and Lance doesn't know if he feels relieved or he wants to run to the walls head first. He could fool everyone, but Coran, that man just has a knack for seeing right through him. And Lance is actually grateful for it, to have someone he can talk to, but he cannot talk about these things with Coran just yet, he's not ready. “I suspected it would be you to end up here.”

 

Lance takes a big breath. Wiping the tears off of his face would be too conspicuous right now, so he decides he won't even bother and just hopes the dimness of the room hides his red eyes, because they really wouldn't go well with the public image he's forcing on himself.

 

“Hey! How did you find me, man?” He turns to Coran, eyes closed and smiling so hard that it makes his face hurt.

 

“I monitor everything on this ship.” Coran says as if it’s so obvious. “There's motion detection, sensors for body signature and…”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… That's a bit too much, don't you think?” Lance jokes and laughs, even though this new information freaks him out.

 

He is proud of himself in altogether, his voice didn't waver, nor did it break not even once, and if Coran still noticed anything, he doesn't make a comment about it. Lance appreciates it, really, he only wants to escape to his room now, so he can cry himself to sleep, hopefully.

 

Because that is what a defender of the universe does at nights.

 

But the headset is still heavy on his head, and his curiosity is still working in him, and maybe, just maybe chatting with someone would do some good to him after all. He still doesn't feel like pouring his heart out, but he can do meaningless small talks, he's very skilled at it.

 

“What's this place, and what's this thing? Something like the mindmelding?” So he asks, his voice sounding more like his usual gabby self.

 

“That's a very good observation, Lance.” Coran chimes, stepping closer.

 

Warmth blossoms in Lance's chest at the small praise, and his smile maybe just becomes a little bit more heartfelt and authentic, but he still cannot ignore the scolding of his own mind.

 

_Pathetic, pathetic, you're just pathetic._

 

Coran is looking at him, frowning and concerned, a hundred words on the tip of his tongue and Lance cannot move. Then, as if he just remembered something, Coran puts up a smile.

 

“You know what? I'm going to show you.” And he turns around and places his hands on the control panel. Cyan lights beam under Coran’s hands and Lance can’t stop himself from prying.

 

“Think of something.” Coran proposes.

 

“Like a cheeseburger or something?”

 

“Now I don't know what a cheeseburger is, but if it's a place, a time or a memory, then it’ll do,” he adds, eyes glistening and curling his moustache. “You once told me you missed the rain, right?”

 

And just like that, Lance's miserable homesickness is apparent inside him again. But to be precise, it's always in him, he just happened to ignore it for a short a time, being too occupied with Coran.

 

“Okay… But I really hope you're not gonna blow me up.”

 

It seemed like a good joke, really. But when Coran’s eyes widened, and his face visibly twitched, as if he was remembering something painful, Lance knew he fucked up.

 

He didn't think twice when he shoved away Coran to save him from the exploding bomb. It was an actually thoughtless action of him, acted out of impulse. He just wanted to make sure that Coran would be okay, that the only one person that cared about him in deep space would be fine.

 

Lance survived it of course, and Coran never said anything about it, but just that one look on his face made Lance sure that he, in fact, had his fair share of guilt, even if it wasn't his fault at all, and that makes Lance feel even more horrible.

 

He would like to say something, to do anything to make that regretful frown disappear from the ginger’s face but he can't. Lance isn't good with words when it comes to the people he cares about the most, as it seems.

 

So he remains silent and closes his eyes, trying to search in his mind, remember the last time he got soaked to the bone, ice cold droplets hitting him hard, burning into his skin like tiny needles. Lance is trying to dig up everything, how it felt, how it smelled, and just like that, something strange happens.

 

Lukewarm droplet falls on his face, then another, and they come down one by one until it's a steady shower falling down on him like a heavy curtain. A distant rumble hollers from what sounds like miles ago, and Lance's heart leaps up to his throat as he opens his eyes, deepwater blue shimmering with wonder.

 

It's raining, a mild thunderstorm pouring down on him, and it's… real? He feels soaked, the water wetting his hair, washing out sweat, and grease, and dust, and Lance can't fight the big smile that takes over his overjoyed face as he looks around.

 

“Coran, do you see this? It's puddles!”

 

Lance is jumping up and down, like a child, too overjoyed to care about such things as how he's supposed to be more mature now since he's in his late teens, fighting an evil emperor, and blah blah blah.

 

“But how is this possible? It feels so real!” He kneels down, hands drawn to touch into the growing puddle under him — even his clothes feel soaking wet as he's sitting on his heels.

 

“This chamber has the ability to recreate memories to the most profound detail. But as fascinating as it is, it could be really… malicious, so we don't really use it anymore. Allura doesn't even remember this is in the castle.” Coran says, voice laced with some intangible sadness that makes Lance freeze.

 

He takes a big breath to suck in the scent of fresh rain, trying to keep it in his lungs so his homesickness would cease until he can go home for real, then he takes off the headset, breaking the visual in an instant. The wetness is gone, and his clothes are dry as if nothing happened, but the touch of water still lingers in his palms.

 

Lance collects himself and he stands up.

 

“Thank you for this,” he walks up to Coran, handing him the gadget. “I won't tell her. It's pretty nasty with what happened with her dad and everything.”

 

It may have happened quite some time ago, but Lance knows better. Allura might hate his guts but Lance cares for her deeply, even if he's actually acting like a disgusting prick around her most of the time.

 

“You can use this room whenever you want.” Coran’s reply comes out of nowhere.

 

“Really?” Lance yelps. Coran can't be serious, he has to be joking, or this has to be another test Lance knows he could never successfully complete. “You sure?” He asks him anyway.

 

Coran only smiles, eyes shining at Lance fondly.

 

* ** *

 

Coran showed him how to turn it on and off — it even had the ability to freeze the moment, actually. He only had one condition, that Lance shall not spend too much time here, because apparently it had some serious side effects and it's easy to get lost in the virtual mindscape, so he shouldn't be surprised if random scenes appear but Lance shouldn't be scared ‘cause there's a safety switch inbuilt, and Altean tech is so trustworthy anyway, right?

 

Minutes have passed since Coran left him on his own and Lance still doesn't dare to move, the headset shaking in his hands. Coran trusted him with this? Like for real? When he was the most unreliable right leg of Voltron? Did Lance really deserve it?

 

The answer to all that is a definite and unfaltering no, but Lance uses his opportunity anyway. Because he's too reckless, and oh, how much he enjoys being the only one to be granted this, and it feels so great to think that Coran might favour him.

 

Even if Lance knows that that applies for Pidge for real.

 

So Lance is ‘walking’ on Varadero beach now, under the summer sky as light breeze caresses his face, sun ready to kiss the horizon. He took his shoes and jacket off, and the blinding white sand feels glorious under his sole, just how he remembers. Sunrays kiss his skin warmly, the sound of the Atlantic Ocean making out with the shoreline is indeed heavenly.

 

Lance considered thinking about his family, to just plot a cheesy reunion with them. He would tell them that he's the Defender of the Universe, talk about the adventures he's been through, but he decided not to. Because his family deserves a real hero for all the trouble and pain Lance put them through by disappearing without a word or a trace, but he's very far away from that.

 

He doesn't dare to look his loved ones in the eye when he's such a mess.

 

And who knows, maybe his family doesn't even miss him. Maybe they're better without him anyway. Maybe…

 

An unexpected noise comes from behind Lance that makes him freeze in his place. His heart begins pounding, he doesn't even know why, and he's too scared to turn around.

 

 _Just how could you defeat a whole empire if you can't even face what's in your own head?_ The voice is back, sweet, cruel and brutally honest.

 

He takes a deep breath and turns around, and…

 

It's Keith.

 

Lance feels like screaming, his hands begin to shake he wants to take off the headset so much, but still, unreasonable warmth appears inside his chests and after the first shock, he actually feels… relieved. It's easier to deal with an imaginary Keith, he has a lot of experience in that.

 

“I was waiting for you.” Lance smiles at him, bittersweet and sad, but between all those feelings, he's actually glad.

 

Keith looks at him, his big purple puppy eyes wide and shining with confusion.

 

“You? Waiting? For me?”

 

Lance giggles. Of course, Keith would be this cute in his mind. That fucker is always like that, no matter what he does, he's attractive and cool, and still so adorable.

 

“What is this place? What are you doing here?” He questions Lance, taking a step forward and toward Lance which sends a groundbreaking chill down his spine.

 

He looks at Keith, and no matter how many times he sees him, he still gets a bit blown away by how _pretty_ he just is. He's wearing his usual clothes, minus the red jacket, as if he's actually finished a good training session, and damn why is his shirt so tight?

 

Lance gets flustered when he realises that he's staring too much, even if it's just all in his mind. Because Keith is too realistic, the frown of his thick and beautiful eyebrows and the astounded look on his face, and he's almost pouting in frustration.

 

But when is Keith not pouting, anyway?

 

Lance has to forcefully tear his eyes away and clear his throat before he can say something, which is simply ridiculous, to get so excited over an imaginary Keith.

 

(But isn't that what he's doing at nights, only there's no lifelike hologram then?)

 

“This is…” he has to take a break to reflect on how deep and husky his voice already is, and boy, what he would do for a glass of water right now. “It's kinda like a holographic projection of my memories and imagination, and I called you here because I need to tell you something.”

 

“I—” Keith begins but Lance cuts him off.

 

“Look, I know this is weird, but it shouldn't be weird ‘cause this is all in my head so you should be much kinder and more cooperative at least, but of course you're just so _yourself_ in my head…” Lance is rambling, slightly upset at himself and the stupid device.

 

This isn't how it's supposed to go.

 

Keith opens his mouth to say something but then he closes it, and Lance is simply amazed.

 

“Wow, this thing is really fascinating.” He marvels at how fast the vision adapts to his thoughts, and he'd lie if he said he didn't enjoy the sudden power in his hands — more precisely: in his head.

 

He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on one particular thing.

 

“What are you doing now?” Keith enquires. His voice sounds a bit more understanding, although Lance can hear the annoyance in it.

 

“I'm trying to get myself a cheeseburger, but I guess even this thing has limits.”

 

Keith rolls his eyes, folding his arms like he always does, still it's not quite the same, it suddenly appears… less hostile maybe? Lance knows it's just the way he wants Keith to act around him, and he definitely shouldn't be this happy about it because this is still not real, and he shouldn't forget about that and get too carried away.

 

Either way, he doesn't care about himself being practically one step closer to being crazy, because he wanted to have this conversation for so long, and he needs this. Because it's the closest thing for a therapist and he needs to let it all out and move on.

 

“So… what did you wanna tell me?” Keith asks, trying to sound friendly but Lance can see he's impatient and… maybe nervous? Makes sense, since Lance is pretty nervous too.

 

For the record, Lance imagined this exact moment a million times, still he doesn't know how to begin, there's just so much he'd like to say, and still...

 

“I'm sorry,” he just blurts it out, and Keith is flabbergasted. “I'm sorry for so many things I can't even say them all. But first of all, I'm sorry that I couldn't be with you when Shiro ‘died’ on Kerberos. I'm sorry you got kicked out of the Garrison. I missed you. A lot. And I felt so terrible ‘cause I kept thinking about what it could've been if we were friends, and maybe…”

 

Lance takes a big breath and another — he practically said all that in one go, he hardly ever stopped to suck fresh air into his dying lungs. It's so useless to dwell on the past and waste energy on the whatifs, but… maybe in an alternate universe, things are actually better, and he and Keith—

 

“You wanted to be my friend? But don't you hate me?” Keith questions Lance the moment he stops talking, gesturing wildly.

 

“I still do. I want to be your friend, I mean.” He explains himself upon seeing Keith's apparent shock, just to clear up the possible confusion that could make Keith think that he meant something else. Keith's reactions throw Lance off, self-disgust creeping under his skin at the recognition of how good an actor he is. It actually terrifies him how easily he can lie and hide his true emotions.

 

How can he be a Paladin of Voltron if all he does is lie, and lie, and lie? Can he make it right?

 

“Keith, I never really hated you, I just… You know, I maybe appear one thing but I'm not just that.”

 

Why is it so hard for him to talk about this? He practised this so many times before, it's like a well-known bedtime story for him, to imagine himself confessing to Keith every night until his exhausted mind falls into darkness and he gets some sleep. It should go so much easier and more fluently for the hundredth time.

 

Yet, it's more difficult and it's harder than ever, and why is it so much smoother for him to make up a lie than to speak his heart? Is something wrong with him?

 

_Yes. Everything._

 

Lance slightly shakes his head, trying to shrug the belittling voice — his own voice — off. Then something comes to his mind, and he looks at Keith.

 

“You seen Shrek? With the ogres and the onions?” His face lights up at the brilliant thought.

 

_Yup, this will make it so easy._

 

“Umm… no?”

 

_Or maybe not._

 

“Are you serious?!” Lance shrieks, not believing his ears, although Keith not knowing Shrek or any other classic like that is just… well, it's so _Keith_ after all. “If we ever get back to Earth, I'm gonna make you watch it.” He mumbles under his breath, trying to get past his frustration and totally oblivious to Keith's frown, purple eyes glaring at him in awe.

 

Lance reminds himself that he's not here to get a mental breakdown because Keith is so emo and such a hermit that he doesn't even know pop culture exists.

 

“Okay, I'm trying to explain this but it's not easy to talk about myself.” Lance tries to be calm. Because he's the cool-headed one in here, that's a fact, and he can do this.

 

“I thought you wanted to talk about that Shark-thing.” Keith's eyes pop up, he's practically bewildered.

 

“First of all: it's _Shrek_ , and second: just shut up and listen!” Lance groans, trying not to let Keith get into his head. Like, any more into than he already is.

 

Still, Lance can't help but feel frustrated because he should just say what he wants to, and it should come as easy as the rest of his silly daydreams go all the time. But it's not, and Lance thinks it actually makes sense, because Coran warned him that this would appear too realistic.

 

And it sure is, so much so, that Lance can't even look at Keith for too long because it's just feels too damn real and he's freaking out.

 

A few minutes of silence follows as he's trying to collect his thoughts, when Keith's low voice sounds up:

 

“You know, I'm listening.”

 

And it's actually calm and encouraging but all Lance hears is Keith being so grumpy and mocking like he always is, and Lance is getting angry.

 

“Oh god, you're pissing me off! I know you're listening, it's… It's difficult for me to say this even though I’ve imagined this a lot of times before…” He's gesturing wildly, unaware of how the scene slightly shifts around him, the serene sunset fading into twilight, dark storm clouds appearing as if to mirror Lance's inner turmoil.

 

Keith opens his mouth again but he closes it, again. Lance is really grateful for this magical Altean brain doctor, to allow him to take a break until he can find the proper words. The real Keith would've left already, but only after scolding Lance that he's using something that's not only not his, but extremely dangerous as well.

 

Lance takes a big breath, and he lets the words fall off of his tongue with the uplifting freedom of not having to filter what he's saying.

 

“You're cool, Keith. Like for real. And I kinda admired you ever since the Garrison and I'm sorry like this is the worst confession ever.” Lance takes a step closer, blabbering but unable to meet Keith's eyes. He knows how he looks too well: shocked, distressed, unbelieving.

 

Lance would like to tell more, like how infuriatingly pretty his eyes are, how great of a fighter pilot he is, and how he wishes he could see Keith smile genuinely more, and just tell everything and make Keith understand, but it's not what he wants to get off his chest now. He’s had countless daydreams about all of those anyway.

 

“I know you can't believe this, but it's true. And I know I have a really fucked up way of showing it, but…” He shrugs, suddenly losing his own train of thought and not remembering how he wanted to go. “It's complicated because I'm jealous, and I'm such a bad person because I have these _thoughts_ , and…”

 

He stops a couple of metres away from Keith, feeling like he has no right to approach him.

 

“I'm sorry that I am like this. You'd think I'm just an easygoing and cheerful person, and I am, but that's just not who I am all the time. And I may hide all this nasty stuff behind that cocky attitude and I know it's my fault but… It's just so much easier to blame others for my own mistakes. To hate you because you're better than me. To laugh it off and joke it away, but I'm not that… shallow. I'm more than jerk.”

 

“Why don't you tell us about this?” Keith asks, voice sounding all too strange but Lance isn't in the mood to try to analyse each weird resonance in it. It doesn't matter anyway.

 

“Why? So you could laugh at me?”

 

“I wouldn't.” Keith declares so low, it's almost inaudible.

 

“Of course, you wouldn't, because you're acting like how I'd want you to behave.” Lance rolls his eyes, mocking himself actually. He can't resist taking a glance at Keith for a second, however. Keith still looks confused, even a bit upset, if Lance dares to say, and when he recognises the glaring disappointment and _hurt_ in his features, Lance is cursing himself.

 

He may summoned this scenario to get rid of his feelings but he's actually realising that he's too biased with Keith, and despite his feelings for him, he still thinks so badly of him. Because Keith can be friendly and he can smile, and maybe there's a reason why he's so closed-off, and Lance is just a giant dick to think he's just too arrogant to mingle with people.

 

And Lance hates himself again, but the right term is _still_ , because even if this is just a hallucination, he keeps hurting Keith, and he just can't get this right, and why is this so messed up between them? Another apology is on the way, but Lance swallows it, because he's apologised enough, and it doesn't mean anything if he can't actually say it to Keith's face for real.

 

But he's trying, even if it's killing him, to look inside himself so deep and find all the bitterness and self-loathing that made him turn something sweet, pure, and exciting to an ugly, cheap rivalry.

 

Keith deserves so much better than him, Lance knows that, and maybe he'll tell him one day why he acted the way he did, and Lance knows that there'll come a day he can be honest with the rest of the team too, but today, but for now, all he has is this illusion, and a perfectly conveyed Keith looking at him with emotions visibly raging inside him, yet he still keeps silent and waits for Lance to make a move.

 

And Lance feels just a tiny bit closer to that day now.

 

“I cannot talk about this out loud, Keith. I feel so petty already, like a giant baby. Maybe I don't trust you, and I mean all of you that much, I can't confide in you. Because you all think you know me but you don't. And if I told you this for real, you wouldn't believe me. You, or the rest of the team. You would just joke about it. And I would put on one of my fake smiles and joke it away too, but it would just be gnawing at me on the inside, and we have a lot going on, and I don't want to ruin our relationship. Or be selfish when we've just started to get along as a team. I can't risk that.”

 

And now that he's opening up, words flow like a river, his say is smooth, coherent, and it's like he won't ever stop because it's always much more to tell.

 

“But I'd still like to confront you all, to scream it in your faces that you don't appreciate me enough. I know I'm just an average person and I don't have as much talent as you, for example. But I'm trying, and I have my moments, I have some pretty good moments, but I still get nothing? Not even a compliment or a praise? So I'm gloating, and I'm just _Lance_ , the never-changing, the always immature, the unbearable, the annoying, but…”

 

Lance realises his voice is getting louder, the blood flows thicker in his veins, ready to boil, and when he looks at Keith, he's looking at him speechless and as if he's seeing a ghost, and Lance forces himself to stay calm — his intention is to tell how he feels and not blame the others, and he has to keep that in mind, he has to learn to control his emotions if he ever wants to talk about this.

 

Because deep down, all he wants from the others is to just _understand_ and to appreciate him.

 

“But it kinda hurts, that you all think of me like that. And I'm so lame that I need this constant reassurance, like it's such a big thing to cater to my ego while planets are literally dying out there and I'm just whining here. I know you hate when I do that, whining all the time.” He looks Keith in the eye, purple meets blue and Lance feels like he's out of breath and he can't speak anymore, not when Keith is looking at him like that; eyes glistening with what looks like pity.

 

That's the last thing Lance wants from the great Keith Kogane, to feel sorry for him.

 

The storm is still rumbling and it's actually raining, Lance didn't even notice it. He looks up at the sky for a moment, eyes closed, he lets the fake rain wash away his sadness, anger and all the negative feelings as he's listening to the wildly clashing tides. He imagines he's one with the flow, he lets his emotions rage like the ocean during a thunderstorm until it all calms down, and the violence is gone, and water is just swirling around until it loses its raw fury and the tides settle down.

 

Lance lets out a big breath, and with a new wave of energy and refound inner peace, he continues.

 

“I know my apologies aren't good for anything, but still, I’m just sorry. I'm sorry I'm not the best person to pilot Blue and you still have to put up with me as her Paladin. I'm sorry for not being honest. I'm sorry for being so needy. I'm sorry for not being like you. I'm sorry I'm just so pathetic I need validation from others to feel like I'm good for something.”

 

Lance doesn't even realise that he's actually stepping closer to Keith again, like the walls he put up around himself are crumbling down and there's a clear path to the miraculous prodigy who's always been out of his grasp but never out of his mind.

 

“I'm sorry I'm the worst teammate ever, that I ruin missions. I'm sorry people have to count on me when I'm not a saviour. I'm sorry that I have such a shitty attitude in general.”

 

 _And sometimes I'm just sorry I exist_ , but he can't say that out loud.

 

“I'm just sorry for everything, Keith. Especially for the things I say to you. I don't mean any of it for real.” And somehow he ended up right in front of Keith, still avoiding his gaze, staring at his boots. Lance suddenly notices that the scenery slightly changed, and it's like they're standing right on the surface of the water. Or maybe it's ice? ‘Cause it's like a mirror, smooth and reflective, deep blue, both of them are just swallowed by endless blueness and it's pretty amazing, actually.

 

But Lance isn't here to be fascinated with the view.

 

“You're probably sick of me saying sorry all the time but I need to apologise for one more thing.” He says, voice barely audible, still avoiding to look Keith in the eye.

 

Because if he does, he will lose that tiny bit of courage and he won't be able to do what he wants to.

 

“What?” Keith speaks up for the first time since Lance's big monologue, voice deep and weirdly shaky.

 

“This.” And Lance lunges forward, to grab Keith and wrap his arms around his stone-like, shocked figure, and he's doing what he wanted for so long. The wish for a kiss has been haunting him for years and so prominent in his brain that he doesn't remember a time when he didn't yearn for it, and damn, Lance knows what Coran meant now because it's so real, more real than the rain or the wind blowing against his skin or the sand in between his toes, and Lance knows he's doomed because he can't really let go of this after just getting a little bit of taste.

 

He still breaks away, admiring Keith's flustered, flushed face that is just way too beautiful before he goes on, a satisfied smile on his face, feeling more contented and talking more confidently than ever.

 

“I'm sorry that there's this feeling inside me — I didn't want to call it love but I… I love you so much, Keith. I tried to ignore it, to forget about it, to push it aside but it's not working, and I'm trying to suppress it and not let it show with the rivalry and always burning myself with Allura rejecting me, but I have these feelings for you, and I'm so fucking insecure I just take it out on you. And it's killing me…” But just like everything has ups and downs, so does this moment, and Lance is reaching that point now, balancing on the edge after the possible best (fake) kiss of his life, he's about to come down, to fall down from his high and break down.

 

“Because you will never like me back, and you're here with me every day but still farther away than ever and you're just so perfect and I will never reach you. I'm just a cargo pilot. I'm nothing compared to you, I'm useless. I'm—”

 

Keith cuts him off with a kiss, and he's kissing Lance, and of course, he does that because it's still Lance's imagination, and oh god, if this was just real.

 

“Don't say things like that,” Keith breathes into Lance's mouth, voice angry and pissed, and still so tender, eyes shimmering with a different kind of disapproval as if he just loathes what Lance says about himself, and Lance's heart sings in bliss but trembles in sorrow because this is the part when Keith usually tells all the things his foolish mind wants to hear so badly…

 

The that’snotrues and the youarewrongs, the don’tthinklikethats and the iloveyoutoos.

 

But Lance has played that scene so many times throughout the years that he doesn't want to hear it anymore because this feels so real, and it's the closest he ever felt to Keith, and it's just too precious, and he just wants to keep it that way and enjoy it just a little bit more.

 

So he kisses Keith once more, and twice, plus one more time, and he hugs him closer until he feels like his ribs are going to break, and then he's just holding Keith close, trying to burn his so realistic scent in his mind forever.

 

“I don't want to let go of this, of you, “ he says, and it feels like Keith is hugging him tighter, and Lance is both revelling in the feeling and amazed by how astonishing Altean technology is. “But Coran told me not to use this thing too much because it's addicting and harmful. And I get that already ‘cause I could literally spend hours in here to be with you like this. I wouldn't care about the Galra or anything.”

 

He rests his head in the crook of Keith's neck, and Keith _shivers_ , and once again Lance is thrown away by the experience but then he's soon reminded of the ugly truth that this isn't actually happening.

 

“If the real Keith were here and heard me say this, he'd be totally yelling with me and tell me what a horrible Paladin I am, not caring about our mission.” Lance chuckles, ridiculing himself, and the artificial Keith in his arms just stiffens a bit.

 

“I'm gonna turn this thing off, just one more minute…” Lance promises, voice drowsy, nuzzling into Keith's soft locks, dark like the emptiest, most void part of the night sky. “I love your hair so much…” he whispers in Keith's ear which makes him tremble again, but then a sudden realisation hits Lance.

 

“Wait, this smells familiar. Is this my shampoo?” He pulls a bit away, laughing. “I have a pretty unimaginative brain to imagine you smelling like me.” He rests his chin on the top of Keith's head, enjoying how his body lies against his own, fitting there perfectly.

 

And about the shampoo thing… Well, maybe Lance looks at his own stuff and gets this weird impression that someone's been using them because he could swear there was more shampoo left the last time he touched the bottle. And maybe he likes to think it's Keith, even though he's aware that it's only his imagination and he remembers wrong.

 

But virtual Keith does smell great with Lance's shampoo, and virtual Keith does feel great in Lance's arms, as if he was just born to be held by Lance, and even though the sensible, self-critiquing part of his brain knows this is all stupid, Lance is grateful for this moment, and he will hold onto this as long as he can.

 

It's calm and serene between them, blinding dark blue is gone and it's just the clear starry sky shining above them, reflecting in the water — they're actually standing on the surface of a still ocean for real, but Lance is too occupied with holding Keith to be awed by the irrational scenery.

 

He can picture stuff like that every time but it's not every day that he's living a dream like this, so he ought to have priorities, even if he loves water very much.

 

“I don't want to see you disappear.” Lance sighs, despising himself that he's whining already. Maybe it was the worst idea to do this, because deep in his heart he knows it won't be enough, and from now on he has to fight himself to come back here every time of the day.

 

Maybe he will ask Coran to disable the room, if not destroy it.

 

Lance still doesn't want to let go and he's not ready to say goodbye to a Keith that cares about him, but he definitely wants to take a glance at him before he vanishes. He can't stop himself from cradling his face in his hands and caressing his flushed cheeks just a tiny bit.

 

“Then let's just kiss for a while, and don't open your eyes.” Keith says, eyes shimmering tenderly and with such a doting smile on his face that Lance's heart trembles seeing it.

 

His eyes are burning already and Lance doesn't want to face reality and especially real Keith the next day, and Lance knows he will be extra rude to him because these feelings are still eating away at him, no matter how many times he's facing them, they're stronger by the day, and they won't ever go away, no matter how many times he keeps chanting that this stupid crush will just not be in his heart on a day anymore.

 

Because Lance also knows that this is permanent, and sincere, and true, and this feeling won't ever leave him, and Keith will never know. He will never look at Lance like this, he will never acknowledge him, and he will never like him.

 

Because let's be honest, Keith and everyone else on this ship is merely tolerating him, for the sake of the universe.

 

Warm hands wipe away his tears softly, and Keith pushes himself up on his toes to kiss Lance gently, and it's so tender and loving, yet his lips are brushing against Lance's rather urgently, raw and passionate emotions soaking through the fierce motions of his small lips, and Lance feels like getting trapped in flaming fire but it's not burning him to ashes, it's just around him, wrapping him up in a protective bubble and Lance has never felt so safe before.

 

For a brief second, Lance lets himself get lost in the illusion of Keith loving him back. Because as pathetic as it is, he needs it, he needs it more than air, and Lance is grateful because this calms his aching insides just a bit, and it's enough to make him take another breath, and another, and one more, and push him through another hectic day when he has to pretend he isn't losing his shit for real.

 

He knows he has to appreciate this virtual reality, because it's a miracle, and he shouldn't be too greedy, so he's doing his best to keep his negative emotions locked up and away, and just shut out the rest of the world and his own mind.

 

And for a brief second, it actually works.

 

* ** *

 

Lance notices when Keith is no longer in his arms. He can't really tell when he disappeared exactly, because he was too absorbed in his own mind, too distracted by the foolish and sickeningly self-satisfying scene his brain projected on him. He felt so happy, so contented for a moment, but then the soothing warmth was just gone, replaced by vast nothingness, and Lance now begins to feel cold and empty.

 

He's going to regret this when he wakes up tomorrow, he's going to hate himself each time he has to be around Keith after this, but still, it was worth it. Because he feels a bit better, and the ache in his chest is somehow numb enough to let his exhausted mind rest as soon as his head hits the pillow.

 

And without over-exaggerating things, Lance can say that he feels actually pretty fucking great with the ghost of Keith's lips on his, the sensations still too vivid like when he wakes up from a breathtakingly realistic dream, his mouth still tingling and his cheeks still rosy.

 

 _Oh yes, this was definitely worth it,_ he touches his lips for a moment, savouring the feeling and trying to put it in his memory forever, before he takes off the headset and puts it down on his rightful place.

 

After he collects his shoes and jacket, he leaves the room with the cheesiest smile on his face, chest tight from the faint but resilient happiness within, and Lance knows he's going to actually sleep well tonight.

 

* ** *

 

When Lance is gone long enough that the chance of him returning is pretty slim is when Keith allows himself to let out a long breath, ragged and heavy, and held in for too long. He stands up from behind the panel where he was hiding at and heads for his own room, moving as silent as his wildly beating heart and raging emotions let him, battling the urge not to slide into the room next to his own.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... I still can't tag/do summaries and I always forget what I want to add here, but a couple things:
> 
> -i was struggling with rating, but i chose teen and up, so if the heavy subject or the kissing or the swearing bothers you, I'll tag it mature
> 
> -i kept editing this so many times and im still not satisfied with certain parts but i was like 'okay, im just gonna put this out there' cause Im really tired of it (like seriously, editing and uploading here takes longer than the actual writing, and rating, tagging and summaries are my death)
> 
> -i was so nervous writing Coran, it was the first time and I struggled, cause like, my expertise is projecting myself entirely on my boy Lance and writing angst about him that makes me cry
> 
> -originally Keef was walking by, heading for his room and he heard Lance laughing and thats how he got into the room. So Lance was supposed to have a happier moment then, but while I was writing that scene, I came up with the part about his family, and I had to add it, because like, you know, the fic wasn't angsty enough and I feed myself on pain. but I also ruined my perfect plot cause now i have no idea how Keef got there, I guess he's got a Lance detector? it's just my perfectionism that's suffering now
> 
> \- also i used the word real annoyingly too much, and it bugs me ahhh, I hate repetition
> 
> -there's a part where Lance is trying to summon a cheeseburger, and when Keef asks him what he's doing, I wanted Lance to reply "picturing you naked" but i didn't want to go in that direction, so yeah. I just want a cheeseburger now really badly
> 
> -also poor Keef that while Lance gets a good night's sleep, our little mullet will probably stay up all night after this. I'm so bad cause I almost went on writing this, and I really wanted a happy ending but I kinda like the mood of it, so I forced myself to end it like there
> 
> -varadero is my favourite place now, i kept looking at photos writing that part, and I'm going there for vacation asap
> 
> I think that's all? I'm really tired, I'm no fun, it's 4am, and I shut up now. Thanks for reading!


End file.
